


Ballroom Blitz

by AmphigoricSymphony, DemonicSymphony



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Ass-Kicking, BAMF Jim, BAMF Sebastian, Bar Room Brawl, Employer with benefits, Hurt Jim, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 18:41:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2862821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmphigoricSymphony/pseuds/AmphigoricSymphony, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonicSymphony/pseuds/DemonicSymphony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim wanted a night out... Sebastian should have known Jim wouldn't make his own protection an easy job. And by the end of the evening, Sebastian is left wondering if there is something more to this job than just protecting Jim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ballroom Blitz

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks very much to Consulting_Smartass for the beta.

It all started when Sebastian stepped out to grab a packet of cigarettes. Jim looked at the man who had been side-eyeing him.

"The fuck is your problem?" Jim snapped, a few too many glasses of whisky in him to observe properly.

"You've been in here, fucking around, drinking and flirting. You need to go the fuck home or put out, sweetheart." The man’s northern accent was thick around the words as he dragged his eyes over Jim.

Jim downed his whisky and grinned as he stepped close. "Oh, darling... I didn't know you were interested. What’s your name?”

The man ginned, reaching for Jim. “Adrian.”

“Adrian,” Jim purred, Irish accent wrapping around the name. He reached up and slid his fingertips along Adrian's jaw and leaned in as though he were going to kiss him. Instead, Jim reared back and headbutted Adrian in the nose, grinning madly when he heard the crunch. As he stepped away he giggled at the sight of blood pouring from Adrian’s broken nose. 

A moment later someone grabbed Jim by the back of his tee he'd worn over jeans and Jim started slinging punches. 

By the time the pub owner called Sebastian, it had turned into a full out brawl, with Jim losing.

"Hey, Seb? You better get back here... He's gone and started something I don't think he can finish..."

Sebastian said nothing as he rolled his eyes, pocketing his mobile as he took another drag of the long-awaited cigarette. Shifting into a jog, he made it around the corner swiftly, loathing the suit Jim had _insisted_ he wear despite Jim's own casual attire. As ever, Sebastian was armed to the teeth, though the cut of the bespoke suit kept that secret from anyone not trained to spot the hidden weapons. 

Just as he made it onto the street where pub was, a chair flew through the doors, startling the bored doorman and making him duck before scrambling away. Seconds after, a ball of fists connecting with bodies moved out of the doors like a single organism, Jim's sloppy Irish easy to detect in the mix of high-brow English, save for one Northerner. 

Sebastian ducked into the fray without hesitation, leveling two men with rough punches without blinking, eyes only for Jim who had no hope in such a tangled mess as this. He found him at center, bleeding all over himself, cursing a string to make a sailor blush. He slung his arm across Jim's chest and pulled him up and back, holding Jim flush against his chest as he drew on the crowd. 

"That's enough, Gents. Let's all take a few steps back," he barked out, calm despite the volume, leveling the Sig on one of the men as he held Jim to him. 

"You fucking! LET ME GO!" Jim snarled as he tried to lunge for Adrian again. 

Adrian wiped his nose. "Ought to keep better control of your pets there, mate. Little thing like that could get hurt..."

Jim growled as he struggled in Sebastian's arms. "Let me go. Fucking arse. I'll kill him. Give me your gun 'Bastian. I want to see his brains."

The crowd was already hurrying back into the pub, away from Sebastian's Sig. Jim muttered as he smacked at Sebastian's arms. "Ruin my fun... fucking brute."

Sebastian kept his eye on Adrian as he holstered his weapon now that the rest of the brawlers had scattered. "You'll want to shut your mouth there, chap," he warned, still keeping Jim held back. Sebastian kept a close eye on Adrian, easily reading the hunger in his eyes. 

"Apologize, and we might be inclined to just forget all about this."

Adrian snorted. "Fuck you. Take him home, teach him how to behave." He shook his head, starting for the pub again, muttering about Jim.

"You bloody worthless piece of..." Jim struggled against Sebastian again..

"Keep talking sweetheart, maybe that idiot of yours will shut you up... if he's got a cock worth shutting you up with,” Adrian called out over his shoulder.

Sebastian let go of Jim, shoving him behind himself. He strode forward in three long steps, grabbed Adrian by the scruff snarling, "Wrong answer, mate," and effortlessly dragged him around the side of the pub to the narrow alley. In the next moment he had Adrian’s hands behind his back, holding him in place for Jim. 

"You've a hell of a lot of manners to learn," Sebastian huffed, as though he were greatly put out by the entire affair, waiting for Jim to have his go. 

Jim followed along and giggled before laying into Adrian. He was a flurry of punches and even a few well aimed kicks to Adrian's kneecaps. By the time he was through, Adrian was sobbing and begging for forgiveness. 

Huffing, Jim nodded to Sebastian, then leaned in close. "Don't ever fucking touch me again, _sweetheart_."

Sebastian took Adrian by his lapels and turned him, pushing his back against the brick wall. He let him go, watching as he slid down to the damp pavement before turning his attention on Jim, who looked a sodding fright. 

Without a word he drew out his mobile and texted for a car, then shrugged out of his own suit coat and put it around Jim, who was far too drunk to feel all the damage Sebastian could see. 

"Home." Sebastian murmured.

"Spoilsport..." Jim slurred as he tucked into Sebastian's side. 

The car arrived soon after and Jim sprawled in the back seat. 

"Tiger... why didn't you just fight with me? You've gotten boring." He pressed himself fully against Sebastian's side and hummed.

"Fish in a bloody barrel," Sebastian grumbled, looking out the window and trying to ignore the feel of Jim curled against his side. _Damn him_. He tucked an arm around Jim to keep him steady as the car began to roll again. When he finally looking at Jim he tsk’d. "Your nose, Christ's sake, Jim," he grumbled, pulling out a cloth from his pocket and holding it to Jim's nose, looking him over. "Going to feel this tomorrow." 

"Aw, Tiger, didn't know you cared," Jim said, voice muffled as he snuggled into his side. "S'what I have Doc for. He'll give me painkillers and I'll be right as rain." He tucked his head against Sebastian's chest and sighed. "Nose hurts a bit."

Sebastian huffed at him in a bit of a laugh, "Lucky you're pissed or it'd hurt more than a bit. You could have told me we were out looking for a scrap tonight, you know." 

"I didn't wear my suit. I thought it was obvious." Jim answered as he closed his eyes. "I want to sleep, Tiger. You're warm."

Sebastian shook his head, jostling Jim a bit. "None of that until Doc's had a look at you; you've a welt on the side of your head the size of the crown." He shifted his coat around Jim's shoulders and took his face between his hands, looking at him as well as he could in the dark. 

"You're a proper idiot, you know that? Why do you wait until I'm gone to get started?"

"I forgot you were gone. He started it... honestly." Jim tipped his head into Sebastian's hand. "He was saying all that about me putting out and being good or whatever... Fuck him. I behave, well, sort of, only for you." Jim closed his eyes again. "Are we almost home?"

"Bit further, don't pull this shit Jim, stay awake," Sebastian growled as he gave Jim a bit of a shake, holding him at the shoulders. Compared to the men in the fray, Jim was very small, and his body against their fists was not a good situation. "Oi, eyes open. 'Behave' my arse, you've never behaved in your life, I don't think." 

Jim huffed and glared at Sebastian. "Christ, 'Bastian. Must you?" He rolled his eyes and winced when it hurt. "I do behave for you! A little..." With a groan he pressed close to Sebastian again. "My nose hurts. Make it quit. I listen to you when things are bad... always do."

Sebastian sighed and looked at Jim's nose in the dim light. "I don't think you broke it, but you're going to look like a bloody raccoon for a few days. Things aren't bad, you're fine. You are just fine," he repeated, partially to himself, trying to convince himself that Jim was tired due to drink and not injury, and cold for the same reason. He did, however, snap at the driver to hurry the hell up if he wanted to keep his head in one piece. 

For the year he'd been working nearly glued to James Moriarty's side, he'd managed to grow quite attached to him, much as he tried to hide it. 

"You always take care of me... The rest of them didn't. Hated me. Hated the job." Jim slurred as they pulled up to the house. "I like you though. You actually do the job. Smart, too. Bloody Oxford. S'part of why I wanted you."

Sebastian gathered Jim up with his own coat wrapped tight around Jim, barking at the driver to get the bloody door already. Jim's nearly sentimental words were scaring him far more than any gaping wound would. He snarled at the house staff as he jogged Jim up to the main door, bellowing through the massive estate for Doc as he headed right for medical. 

"If you've gone and torn some sodding organ while I went for smokes I'm going to kill you myself when Doc is done with you. Keep your eyes open," he huffed at Jim in a tone far more affectionate and worried than the words themselves. 

"You can't kill me! It's not in your job description," Jim muttered at Sebastian as he was jostled and carried through the house. "Fucking horse, slow down."

Doc met them at the top of the stairs. "Christ, Jim. What the fuck happened to him?"

"Sod off, got in a fight."

"Jesus, how many were there? Toss him on the bed, let me check him over." Doc sighed as he drew out his pen light, ready to check Jim for a concussion first.

Sebastian got Jim down on a bed, keeping his coat draped over him. "Six at final count, though three truly going at him. Still had his feet, but he's pissed. Cold and tired on the trip home, being bloody _nice_ to me." He raked a hand through his hair and looked down at Jim, quirking up a lip, "Gave that Northerner hell though, had him crying for his mum." 

Doc grinned and hummed as he watched Jim's pupils, drawing curses from Jim. "Your head's alright. Still think you'll have a hell of a headache tomorrow." He moved to examine Jim's stomach. Doc pressed here and there, checking him over. 

After taking his blood pressure and temperature he shook his head. "He's fine. He's going to hurt like hell, but he's fine. Might put someone in the room with him tonight. Kel or Wilkes..." 

"No. 'Bastian stays." Jim protested.

"And unless he's sleeping in the bed with you, it's not happening. He needs sleep too, you self-centered little brat," Doc retorted. "I don't care how it gets done, so long as someone watches you or is close during the night, you little shit."

"You're fucking lucky I like you," Jim huffed.

“Mm, I’ve known you since you were tiny, don’t sass me,” Doc muttered at him. “Go on, get some rest.

Sebastian sighed and thanked Doc with a quiet nod, picking Jim up again and hushing him as he took him out of medical, greatly relieved that he was alright. "Come on, you," he said in quiet Irish, taking him up to his room. He set Jim on the edge of the bed, easing the shirt off Jim’s body and tossing the bloodied cloth in the bin. "Into bed, let's sleep this off." 

Jim struggled out of his shoes and trousers, tossing them haphazardly across the room. He crawled into bed and sprawled across it in his boxer briefs. His Irish was soft. "Come on then, you're slow, Tiger."

Sebastian stripped down to his pants and crawled into the bed with his employer. It should have been strange to pull Jim into his arms, but he found it natural. "Why do I have the feeling I'm not going to have any blankets tonight?" 

"Keep me warm and I'll share," Jim retorted. He tucked himself against Sebastian, his head against his chest. "Mm warm."

Sebastian sighed as he stared up at the ceiling, shaking his head. "You are going to be the death of me," he said in warm Irish, settling an arm over Jim's shoulders and closing his eyes. "Go to sleep." 

Jim huffed and curled up there, seeming smaller than normal. It didn't take long before he was down hard, fast asleep.

“Little idiot,” Sebastian murmured as he stroked a hand through Jim’s hair. There would be time to explore whatever this mess was later. He closed his eyes and let himself relax, falling asleep soon after Jim.

Sebastian’s arm stayed around Jim, protecting him even in his sleep.


End file.
